


Sometimes It's Not About The Hot Chocolate

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Childhood Memories, Eliot is stupid when it comes to people's feelings sometimes, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Memories, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: Okay, so Eliot is a snob when it comes to food.  They understand that, and for the most part put up with his little quirks.  Sometimes though, a person just wants to be alone with the crappy hot chocolate of their childhood.





	Sometimes It's Not About The Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenelystrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/gifts).



> From the time you posted this prompt I knew there was a story here. And even though I'm sure this doesn't look like what you expected, I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Thank you for playing with us this year (and thank you for your patience with me as I get these wrapped up!).

Boys could be dumb about other people’s feelings. At least that’s what Sophie said, and even though she was usually saying it about Nate, Parker understood that what she really meant was all boys. After all, Sophie knew about such things. Even Nate said so, especially when she was saying mean things about him.

Standing on the roof, dark sky arching overhead, Parker could finally breathe for the first time in what felt like hours. Her thoughts were beginning to quiet too – shifting from snarly, screaming kittens back into something resembling human speech. And she knew Eliot hadn’t meant to be a bully when he said her hot chocolate smelled “disgusting”.

She understood he was just being dumb when he took the cup away from her and told her he was going to make her a “better” one.

It still hurt. And before she could figure out how to breathe past that hurt, Parker’s thoughts were beginning to snarl. She was on her feet and her chest hurt, and then everybody was looking at her and suddenly she was the outsider freak again. By the time Hardison said her name, all she could hear was that quiet edge of ‘don’t poke the crazy’ that people’s voices always got when she forgot what the rules were.

So she’d thrown a chair. And she’d screamed at all of them.

She didn’t remember heading for the roof, but none of them had been brave enough to follow. And that hurt too.

 _It smelled like Christmas. He said it smelled like Christmas._ She thought Jimmy had been about five at the time. He’d definitely been old enough to talk to and teach things to and up until she killed him by teaching him how to ride a bike, Parker had liked that part of being a big sister.

 _You didn’t kill him. The car did._ That was what everybody had told her, but Parker was definitely old enough to understand that there were some things that normal folk just didn’t get. If she hadn’t taught him how to ride the bike in the first place…

“Swiss Miss,” she whispered, pressing a hand against her chest and trying to rub the pain out of her heart. When she’d told him to choose, he’d said that the girl on the box looked like her. So that was what they went with. Stealing the two packets hadn’t been difficult – hot chocolate seemed to be one of those things designed for kids like them to take advantage of.

She’d also been encouraged to discover that the only other thing they needed was hot water. “It says we need to boil the water,” she’d told Jimmy, carefully sounding out each of the words in her head as she read them. “That means it has to be hot enough to bubble.”

Parker understood now that it would have been faster to use the microwave. _Not to mention I probably wouldn’t have gotten burned,_ she thought, absent-mindedly rubbing the two pale pink spots on the back of her right hand – all that was left of her first attempt to get the scalding hot water into two irregularly sized chipped mugs. Using the microwave would have risked drawing Karen’s attention to what they were doing though, and they’d learned very quickly that life was much happier when Karen didn’t know what they were doing.

Watching the powder transform into liquid as she stirred each cup, the marshmallows grow and plump into the shape they were meant to be was one of the first times Parker could ever remember believing magic was real. And the smell – shifting from the flat metal smell of hot water into rich, sweet chocolate – Parker still didn’t know if that was what Christmas smelled like for other people, but for years it was the best she had.

Remembering how happy Jimmy had been, Parker’s face began to hurt again. _I don’t want to cry. This is a good memory. I don’t care what anyone else thinks…_

But sometimes you didn’t get a choice on what you cried about. Sophie had said that too.

“Parker?”

She wasn’t ready for apologies, and briefly wondered what Eliot would say if she told him ‘not now’. Parker was pretty sure she was allowed to say ‘not now’, but Sophie wasn’t here for her to check and anyway, ‘not now’ wasn’t ‘not ever’ – at least not yet – because ‘not ever’ held some very dark things in it that she definitely wasn’t feeling right now.

She felt Eliot draw breath again and held up a hand to keep him from saying her name one more time. “I’m trying to decide how mad I still am,” she told him. Pivoting slowly, she saw the hitter standing quietly, just outside her minimum safe distance line – ever bit of him still and calm; as non-threatening as she suspected he could get. “You hurt me.”

“I know,” he said simply. “I don’t understand why, but it’s enough that I did and I’m sorry for that.”

The tears were coming now, and Parker knew she wouldn’t be able to stop them. As scary as it was to cry in front of other people though, Parker understood that it was okay to cry in front of this family. They wouldn’t tease her for her tears or smack her or yell at her to ‘grow up!’ Eliot in particular would do whatever he could to make her feel better whenever he saw her cry.

“He said it smelled like Christmas,” she managed finally, the explanation more sobs than actual words. “You said it smelled disgusting. Christmas isn’t disgusting!” And suddenly her hands were balled into fists again, and the need to hit something was ballooning up inside her again, making her gag. “You shouldn’t have said that!”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice still calm. “I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have said something like that when it was important to you.” He paused. “Was it your brother? Who said it smelled like Christmas?”

Hugging her arms across her chest, Parker nodded.  
********************************  
_That was a brother scream,_ Hardison had said into the silence that followed Parker slamming out of the room, and Eliot realized immediately that he was wrong when he thought he couldn’t feel any worse.

Now, standing across from Parker and seeing the truth of what his careless arrogance had cost, the hitter understood something potentially even more terrifying. _I don’t know if I can fix this._

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, knowing that if nothing else went right tonight, he needed to say the words and own what he’d done. “Parker, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you like this – what I said was stupid and thoughtless, and if I could take it back I would.”

“But you can’t,” she said, and Eliot felt his spirits drop just a little bit further.

“But I can’t,” he repeated. “And I can’t make you accept my apology either. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am, and hope you understand that I never would have said anything to make you feel this bad…” His voice trailed off as he registered her eyes widening, and a small shake of her head. “What?”

“It’s a ‘not now’ thing,” she said, taking a step forward. “Not a ‘not ever’ thing. I know you weren’t being a bully, but it hurt and I can’t stop it hurting right now, but it’s not like it won’t ever stop because I know it’s stopped other times and it’s not worse than those other times.” Obviously frustrated, the thief threw up her hands. “I’m not saying it right.”

But she was, in her own way, and Eliot felt a small glow of encouragement. “You are,” he reassured her, taking a step forward himself. “All I can do is be sorry and promise not to do it anymore, but that doesn’t change what I did. I can’t fix that.” He gestured at Parker. “That’s up to you. You’re the only one who can decide how long the hurt is going to be this bad, or how long you’re going to be mad at me.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Eliot stayed quiet, giving Parker the emotional and physical space she needed.

When she spoke again finally, Eliot wasn’t surprised to hear the last thing he’d expected. “I think I can be done now,” Parker said, closing the distance between them at last.

“You sure?” he asked. With Parker it always paid to confirm.

She nodded. “It was a good apology. And Sophie says we have to remember that you’re kind of stupid with people’s feelings sometimes.”

Eliot had heard the accusation before, but unlike other times he didn’t let it get to him. _Besides,_ he thought, _evidence is kind of in her favor right now._

“Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?” Parker asked him as they made their way downstairs – her tone overly bright and cheerful.

To his credit, Eliot gave the request due consideration before giving into the small shudder of revulsion that rippled through him. “Don’t push your luck, Parker.”


End file.
